


Forthcoming

by Fedora Of Adorableness (TheTimelessChild0)



Series: Omovember 2020 [11]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Bladder shyness, Omovember 11, Omovember 2020, Protective Peter Burke, Urination, public/visible accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:08:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27504319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/Fedora%20Of%20Adorableness
Summary: He was very muchnotholding up well.
Series: Omovember 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987816
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5
Collections: WC²





	Forthcoming

**Author's Note:**

> fyi, this takes please in season 2, after Kate's death, but before suspecting Fowler's involvement.

He didn’t know what it was about. Okay, that was a lie. He told it to himself, because the truth wasn’t rational. It was ages ago. It shouldn’t have affected him. Certainly not as much as the years that followed...

He had barely started going, when a familiar semi-bald head crashed the party two urinals over. Neal had no choice but to take deep breaths, close his eyes and wait for Jones’ departure.

When he finally did, only dribbles came out. Weird.

_ I can’t have imagined the need _ .. _ could I?  _ Neal had spent most of his 28 years trusting what his body was telling him. A while later, the stream resumed sparingly. He tucked his paintbrush back in his pants and flushed. His shoulders lowered, like they reflexively did right before... _ oh no _ . A warm sensation permeated through his private area. Caffrey looked down to see his tan trousers darkening. 

“Shit!” he zipped back to the urinal, barely missing the edge of the porcelain, as a full stream sprayed without regard for aiming anywhere in particular. Thankfully, there was no splashback. Not that that would’ve made any difference. Less  _ humiliation  _ than already present was preferable, though.

He washed his hands and faced one of the stall doors. Looking down at himself, he realised there was no hope of passing it off as a faulty tap splashing. It was more incriminating than the bonds he’d forged. Allegedly.

* * *

Peter frowned. “What the hell is he up to now?” His consultant walked back to his desk, presumably from the bathroom, wearing his jacket buttoned all the way from top to bottom.

Neal knew it would attract eyes. Which was the point. No one was looking at the edges of the jacket. Not that they would see anything.  _ Right? _ He couldn’t be too sure...

The desk was large enough to fit his legs without it looking unnatural. Until he started going over case files, that is.

“Neal?” Peter flagged him down. “What are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing? My job,” he replied back, zooming back onto the right page.

“You’re gonna get arthritis sitting hunched over like that...sit up straight,” Burke implored him.

“I’m not 80. I’ll be fine,” Neal insisted, nervously clenching his legs and wincing at the wetness.

“Nope! Lean...back,” he grabbed Caffrey’s shoulder and slid his chair back a few inches at the same time.

“Hey!” Neal quickly implanted the file over the embarrassing evidence, covering it up to the best of his ability.

“What was...” Peter’s eyes widened. Unless his mind was playing tricks on him, something highly unusual had happened to his CI’s bottom half. It appeared to be moist, for one.

“What was what?” the con man looked innocently at the Suit, cheeks delicately decorated with a subtle hint of pink.

“That didn’t look like a shadow,” Burke commented, reaching for the file. Neal spun away from him and back to his desk, inadvertently revealing the spot once more.

“Did you...” he tilted his head, befuddled.

Caffrey blushed ferociously, and sighed.

“Shut up, okay. I’m already uncomfortable, don’t need you to add to it,”

The elder nodded amicably, dropping the matter. _ It happened _ , even to the best, after all.

“Okay, I’m sorry..:” Peter apologised, taking off his coat. He signalled for the man to stand up, which he did, cautiously.

With the jacket casually drooped in front of his midsection, they were able to slip through the glass doors free from ogling eyes.

“I’ll grab my spare pair of pants from my locker,” he assured Caffrey.

“Thank you, Peter. Really,” Neal’s embarrassed expression got complimented with a look of sincerety. “Sorry about..” he indicated the jacket over the wetness.

“You dabbed it with paper towels earlier?” Burke checked. 

  
“Of course,”

“Then it’s not a problem,” Peter smiled, leading him into the bathroom again.

* * *

Jones saw his colleague step off the elevator holding pants. The ones he was wearing had no mustard stains of any kind.

  
“Where’s Neal?” he asked, guessing the most likely recipient.

“In the bathroom,” Peter informed him casually.

“Still?” Clinton commented. Burke nodded. Jones hinted at the bottoms in his hand, raising an eyebrow. Burke nodded again.

“How long has it been?”

“little over 5 years,” Jones reminded him. Both nodded, eventually going about their day.

The End.


End file.
